A Bond Not of Blood
by Volitional
Summary: This is post-Millennium; taking place sometime during the period in which Alucard is gone. This was a drabble request called "Break Me" with our characters being angsty. It's a bit comedic as well and plays off the idea/theory of a hidden and growing friendship between the Draculina and Hellsing's leader. Something small to glance at as I thought I'd share. Enjoy.


Night in and night out – sometimes even during the day their little squabbles would continue. Hellsing's director would wake the slumbering Draculina midday, simply just to spite her; and in return, the vampire would wake the older woman in her own hours of rest. It was a vicious and playful cycle all the same.

Dusk had fallen and the knight had finished showering. Garbed in a crisp white shirt and her trousers, she stood before a mirror to brush out her hair with a lazy expression. A frown decorated her lips, perpetual throughout time and a single azure orb still held the frigid sternness that carried on. The lines in her features only deepened as she caught sight of the younger blonde from the corner of her vision. In Alucard's absence, Seras and Integra had grown close; and some would even dare to tread the line of calling the pair 'fond' of one another. Their petty arguments equaled the rivalry of siblings, and the remaining soldiers of Hellsing knew not to take the threats made on either end to heart. A Cheshire's grin broke the Draculina's features and Integra automatically turned to swat at her. "Get out, I didn't call for you!" The advance was easily evaded, but that didn't stop a gloved finger from pointing at the elder woman's face.

"Sir, is that a wrinkle? You're starting to look like —"

The name she had been about to issue was warped as Integra took hold of the vampire's cheeks, pulling and stretching at them as she glowered at the young woman. "What was that?!" Both of them knew that the reason for these behaviors were to make up for the lack of activity and overall life of the manor. Seras knew that presenting Walter's name was both in good humor as well as crossing a line; but she had learned how to dance around the noblewoman's boundaries. She let out a garbled and incoherent response as Integra continued and the police woman's arms flailed and tugged lightly at the hands on her. While she could easily pull away, it was evident that she didn't necessarily want to. Her tongue snaked out, lapping at the woman's bare hands. The Draculina made extra care to leave a good amount of saliva behind in the process. Integra immediately released her, a deadpan expression taking the place over the frown she usually wore.

"Heeh!"

"Your tongue makes up for the lack of a _hand to lend_," she announced bitterly.

Taken aback, Seras blinked and gave a sort of half smirk. "Sir, I don't think we'll ever see _eye to eye_. Besides, I can regenerate other limbs and still keep my youth." Her tone teased, filled with mirth and a small challenge.

"Why do I bother…" A defeated, exhausted sigh freed itself from the heir's lips. It didn't take a verbal announcement for Seras to understand. A growl formed in the back of her throat, but she suppressed it. "I stood with you and fought with you and helped you in those final moments!", she blurted out before she could stop herself. "I've been here, in your shadow! I know I'm not Master, but I'm try and I am doing my best, Sir!" The Draculina advanced. She wasn't angry so much as she was hurt. "I miss him too, but just because you're getting old doesn't give you an excuse to be grumpy all the time! You look like an old grandma and are starting to act like one too!" That was where she caught herself, and suddenly clasped a hand over her mouth. Integra had watched the female march closer until they were practically only a few inches apart. The knight had even folded her arms over her chest.

Cringing as the head of Hellsing raised the hand with the brush in it, Seras shut her eyes tight; but didn't back away. Several moments went by and she waited for the realization and or pain to settle in. It didn't come. One eye opened, peeking out at the older woman. The grooming utensil was being held out to her. Taking it, she waited for further orders. The knight only turned and perched on the edge of her bed, one leg crossed over the other. Seras followed close at her heels, if a little hesitant. Sitting herself just behind Integra, she began running it through the woman's hair. The slow motion of doing so seemed to release whatever tension had been lingering in the room.

"Sir?"

"I know."

A pause; and Seras tried again, voice conveying just how puzzled she felt. "Sir?"

"I know, and your best has been beyond necessary. Thank you, Seras."

Silence followed suit, but was soon dispelled as the pair picked up conversation. It fluctuated between business-talk and informal ideas or perspectives. Another, small feud between the Draculina and Countess had passed – just as they always did. It was a beautiful, comedic, and sometimes intimidating routine; but one they preferred and didn't particularly mind. It kept them whole – it kept them _alive_, if one could describe it as such.


End file.
